


Townies and Toffs.

by viemmiee



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, British Politics, Class Differences, F/M, Love Triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viemmiee/pseuds/viemmiee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Contention has arisen in the country town of Erebor, where Thranduil Greenleaf has been the conservative member of parliament for many years. A newcomer to the political scene, Thorin Durin, has decided to stand in the next election, offering a real threat to Thranduil's safe seat and a chance to "take back Erebor". </p><p>Tauriel, Thranduil's ward, finds herself embroiled in politics, social division and a love affair with the opposing side she never saw coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [A/N: Hi everyone. This is basically just a silly, modern day version of Kiliel's Romeo+Juliet-esque love story. It's a sappy high school AU, set in England in the 21st century and this is a bit of a nothing chapter, just setting up the scene really. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!]

Morning light filtered through the gossamer silk curtains, falling in delicate rays upon the sleeping girl’s freckled face. The warmth of the sun turned the blood-black of her eyelids a heady red, rousing her from dreams. They had been awfully nice dreams too, though she couldn’t remember them exactly… something about walking through a milky pond of stars and up away into the night, perhaps. 

Very slowly Tauriel awoke, stretching languidly and lazily, her movements almost feline as she extracted herself from the tangle of bed-sheets. Glancing over at the clock on her bedside table, she let out a low grumble. Reality sunk down through her torso like a lead weight, all the comforting peace of sleep evaporated instantaneously: summer was over and it was the first day of a new school term. 

With another grumble, she fell backwards against her pillows and dragged her blankets back over her head.

*** 

“Ah, Tauriel. Glad you could _condescend_ to grace us with your presence.” 

Thranduil peered over the top of his newspaper, one imposing eyebrow raised as Tauriel scurried to her assigned seat at the breakfast table. (Legolas was trying to hold back sniggers over his cereal).

“Punctuality, Tauriel.” Thranduil licked his thumb before turning to the obituary column at the back of the paper (his favourite section and in general, his preferred past-time reading), “It is the corner-stone of civilised society. Don’t you forget it.” 

“Sorry, sir.” Tauriel mumbled, trying to resist the urge to roll her eyes at her guardian’s draconian manner.

The trait that Thranduil placed above all else, punctuality included, was discipline. He ran a tight ship; Greenleaf Manor was his kingdom, his domain absolute, and he expected obedience from every person who dwelled within its walls. This austerity extended to his public life as well: Thranduil Greenleaf was the conservative member for parliament in the Erebor electorate and had been for the past two terms. His campaign slogan, quite literally, was, “Principles. Tradition. Experience.” It summed the man up completely.

Tauriel reached forward to grab a stack of toast and was busy buttering her first slice when Legolas broke through the quiet din of clattering cutlery, 

“Father, I’m thinking of trying out for the captaincy of the fencing team, now that Elladan has graduated.” 

Thranduil didn’t take his eyes off the newspaper as he replied, 

“Capital idea, son. Fencing is a much more worthy pursuit than archery-” He peered over his paper once again to fix Tauriel with his azure blue gaze, “—which I suppose you’ll be partaking in, once again?”

Tauriel’s chin jutted out determinedly, “Yes, sir.” She hesitated before adding, as a justification of sorts to the challenge held in her guardian’s tone, “I’m the best in the school.”

“Well, so long as you’re the best.” Thranduil mused, before pulling out his pocket-watch from his silk waistcoat to examine, “It’s seven thirty five. You both better hurry along, or the driver shall leave without you. I don’t want a phone call from Mr. Saruman telling me that you’re _late_ on your first day.” 

He shot them both his most stern look, then resumed studying the list of deaths – happily engrossed once again.

Tauriel, reluctantly, let the slice of toast she’d buttered fall back onto her plate and quickly followed her guardian’s command. 

She exited the breakfast room and meandered into the gargantuan hall beyond, with it's lofty ceilings and intricate chandeliers. Legolas, who'd been following only a footstep behind, shoved a glossy, red apple into her hand once they were safely out of his Father's sight. He grabbed his blazer – yes, despite the fact that the 1950s were _more_ than half a century prior, the entire town of Erebor was stuck in a time-warp, including the over-zealous school board and their insistence upon keeping a traditional (read, _very_ dated) uniform – and grinned, 

“Can’t go to school on an empty stomach, Taurie. Why were you late to breakfast today, anyway?” 

Tauriel shrugged on her own blazer - stiff, starched and uncomfortable as it was - before following Legolas out of the front door and into the warm morning air, 

“Summer’s over. I suppose I was grieving.”

“Really?” Legolas raised an eyebrow at her as together they strode down the manicured tree-lined drive, gravel crunching underfoot, “I thought you were getting bored... you know, with all Dad’s political stuff.”

Rather than being allowed to enjoy their holidays, neigh the last remains of their _childhood_ , Tauriel and Legolas had been forcibly drafted into the conservative party for the duration of the summer. It’d been long days of folding posters, licking envelopes and carrying out other menial tasks to help the clerks and interns with their work load. An election had been called for January, months away still, but Thranduil insisted on being over-prepared. Tauriel didn’t see the point of it – his seat was safe, everyone in Erebor detested change and the old, incompetent Labour candidate (whose name nobody could ever quite recall) never offered any serious threat – but there had been rumblings from some of the town’s people. Word was there was a new unionist who was planning to run for the Labour camp. Someone new, young and innovative, that could inspire hope. Someone by the name of Thorin. 

“Well… a little. I have been looking forward to archery starting again. But…” She trailed off, passing the apple he’d given her from hand to hand, before admitting, “It’s your last year at school. Next year, you’ll be at Oxford and I’ll be stuck here still. I just… don’t really want you to leave.”

She looked up finally, though Legolas was staring straight ahead – a peculiar expression on his face. Hastily, Tauriel added, 

“I know that’s _incredibly_ selfish of me to admit. I can’t hold you back and I wouldn’t want to, anyway. I’ll just miss you, that’s all. And I can’t help feeling as though this is the beginning of the end, you know?”

Finally Legolas met her gaze, a smile tugging at his lips, 

“You’re incredibly dramatic, Tauriel.” 

He bumped his shoulder’s against her own gently, his voice low (Legolas had never been particularly good at expressing his emotions),

“I’m not going to leave you. I’ll come home as often as I can. Besides, I’m sure they do have this little thing called 'Wifi' at University. I’ll email you so much, you’ll be sick of me. Or I'll text. Every day, I promise.”

“You won’t.” Tauriel persisted stubbornly, “You’ll be off actually _having_ a life and doing exciting things with new people, instead of endlessly talking about the harvest festival or county politics or _farming_.”

Legolas opened his mouth to argue, but Tauriel cut across him, 

“Don’t misunderstand me, I _want_ you to enjoy yourself. I’m just saying, I’m going to miss you. That’s all. You’re my best friend.”

She nudged him back, both of them avoiding eye-contact, before she added finally, 

“And really, what the hell am I going to do around here without you? I’ll probably die of boredom.”

There was a pause, and then solemnly Legolas replied,

“I would laugh, but that’s a very real possibility.”

He was able to keep a serious expression for a moment longer, before cracking and smirking mischievously, 

“You worry too much about the future. What you _should_ be worried about is… me creaming you in a race to the car!”

“What?” Tauriel scoffed, “You’re _such_ an immature eighteen year old—oh! What! Not fair! You had a head start!” 

She tore after him, gravel kicking up behind them as the sleek, black chauffeured-driven limousine pulled up just beyond Greenleaf’s front gates. 

*** 

Erebor Comprehensive was an institution, rather than just a mere secondary school. Well, that was certainly how the place looked from the outside - Tauriel suspected a high-security prison might be more picturesque. It was the only high school in the district for several miles around, so all the children from the town of Erebor attended. Which is why, Thranduil explained, there was a need for bars on all the windows: to keep the “rabble” at bay. Though Tauriel suspected Thranduil would have preferred to send his son and his ward to a upmarket, independent boarding school – the likes of Eton or somewhere equally as snooty and prestigious – he had to at least pretend to _like_ the town he stood as a member of parliament for, by showing some semblance of community spirit. 

In all honesty, Tauriel liked her school. She got along well with most of her teachers – she wasn’t particularly academic, but she was dedicated to improving herself and performing to the best of her abilities – and she really was the best in her year at archery, as well as most other athletic sports. Problem was, not a lot of her fellow classmates liked her much. 

In Erebor there existed a distinct class division: townies and toffs. Rather than being just a social or economic division, though it certainly encompassed those two factors, it was also a geographical distinction. Greenwood forest, which was just beyond the borders of Greenleaf Manor’s extensive grounds, acted as a physical barrier between the urban decay of central Erebor and the sprawling, opulent mansions of outer Erebor. Money was unevenly distributed in the town – but that was to be expected when Erebor’s economy was derived from rural or agricultural means. There were very few toffs (the farm owners) and a _lot_ of townies (the workers). 

Tauriel’s association with the Greenleaf’s – she was as close as Thranduil would ever come to having a daughter of his own – meant that she was accepted by all the toffs. But the majority of her cohort, the townies, steered clear. 

Ironic, all things considered, as she’d once been a townie herself. Her Father had been the Greenleaf’s butler and Thranduil’s most trusted servant. She’d grown up with Legolas, allowed to run wild in the endlessly vast fields of the Manor and play, but she’d always known that she wasn’t _like_ him. The Greenleaf’s were rich and important and she and her Daddy lived in a shabby one bedroom over a butchers shop.

But her Father had died suddenly only weeks after her seventh birthday and it became apparent that little Tauriel was going to be taken away by child services and put into a foster home in a big smokey city somewhere. Then, quite unexpectedly, Thranduil had announced he was instating himself as Tauriel’s legal guardian. She’d moved into Greenleaf’s the very next day. And in all the toff’s eyes, and the entire town's eyes for that matter, her early history had ceased to exist.

***

She was half-way through munching on the apple Legolas had smuggled for her, when their driver pulled up alongside the curb. Legolas swung his satchel over his shoulder, as Tauriel spoke around her breakfast, 

“Thanks, Lindir. See you at four!”

Thranduil’s chauffeur tilted his hat in the rear-view mirror in acknowledgement, then Tauriel followed Legolas’ lead and exited the car. Students were milling around the front gates and lawn, gossiping and catching up over the happenings of the summer months and delaying the inevitable tedium of school. 

Haldir, Legolas’ closest friend (other than Tauriel) was already there, talking animatedly about his trip abroad (his parents owned a Chateau in the south of France). Tauriel gave Haldir a quick smile, which went unacknowledged (he was far too busy discussing French girls snogging techniques, a very important conversation, _obviously_ ), she then grinned at Legolas, before departing with, 

“Have a good first day.”

Which he quickly corrected,

“Have a good first _morning_. I'll see you at lunch!”

Now alone, Tauriel marched with grim determination into the confines of school. As she made her way up the front steps and crossed over into the threshold, she sighed wearily… summer really _was_ over. In only a matter of months, Legolas would leave her and then she'd be alone with only Thranduil for company in that enormous house: a _horrifying_ thought. 

Ignoring the happy reunions, shouts and general chaos of the buzzing student body around her, she made her way through the labyrinth of corridors to her locker – the same one she’d occupied since year seven. Dropping her satchel to her feet, she spun the locker combination – 10, 3, 34, 21 – then pulled on the lock, but instead of clicking open, it remained locked. 

Odd.

Maybe a couple of months away had made her forgetful? She tried the combination again, being far more careful and precise this time as she spun the dial around, but still the lock remained firmly shut. 

Perplexed, Tauriel turned on her heel to observe those around her – perhaps all the locker combinations had been changed? Or maybe her locker had been moved elsewhere? But it appeared nobody seemed to be encountering the same problem, lockers were being opened and slammed shut all around. 

She tried the combination once more, tugging down extremely hard on the metal contraption when again, infuriatingly, nothing happened. Frustrated, she slammed her fist against the front of her locker – causing an almighty _crash-bang_ of noise – which was answered by a bemused,

“Why are you punching my locker?”

She wheeled around and was met by the sight of a dark haired boy, studying her with a curiously wide smirk. Blinking rapidly, Tauriel answered,

“ _Your_ locker?”

“Yes. _My_ locker.” The boy replied, smirk still in-place - though he seemed to be appraising her with a more weary ‘Is this punching-lockers-person mentally unbalanced?’ expression.

“But it’s not _your_ locker. It’s been my locker since year seven!” Tauriel retorted, her tone completely scandalised.

“Oh. Right.” The boy raised a hand to rake through his hair – which was scruffy and long, it was even tied up into a knot – then scratched the back of his neck as he chuckled, “Hmm. Seems we've got ourselves a bit of a pickle here, eh?”

Tauriel raised an unamused eyebrow, scowling moodily, “Ugh. Where have they moved my locker to, then?”

“Ah…” The boy gestured around him vaguely, “I dunno? Sorry. I’m new, see.”

Tauriel made an irritated “tsk” noise, to demonstrate just _how_ completely useless and unhelpful the boy was being, “I figured that out for myself, funnily enough.”

“You did?” The boy's eyebrows were almost lost in his hair-line.

“This school has a population of less than three hundred students.” Tauriel answered shortly by way of explanation, then bent down to haul her satchel over her shoulder, "Even if I don't know everyones name, I recognise the majority of students by sight."

“Really? Wow. The school I used to go to had about three hundred students per _year_.” The boy chuckled again, as if this small, unwanted piece of information was outrageously witty, then he offered, “I’m from London.”

“ _Interesting._ ” Tauriel replied in her most snide and sarcastic voice. 

Eventually, it seemed, the boy caught on to Tauriel's sour mood... as his cheerful expression changed to bewilderment. 

Rolling her eyes, Tauriel turned on her heel and marched back down the corridor. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She wasn’t just going to relinquish her ownership of her locker ( _her_ locker since year seven!) to some random new person. 

She stormed through the halls, her strides aggressive and purposeful, until she reached the reception office at the front of the school. Administration staff were bustling about her, all in a manic up-roar, as was usual for the first day of term. Tauriel pinged the small bell that sat atop the front desk, scowling still as everyone rushing about seemed to be ignoring her.

"Yes, Miss Greenleaf?"

She whirled around and the Vice-Principal, Mr. Gandalf, stood before her - his eccentric grey beard longer than ever. 

"Sir." She nodded her head in a show of respect, before beginning her tirade, "It seems as though my locker has been misplaced. Or rather, _invaded_ , by an unhelpful new person."

"Ah, yes." Mr. Gandalf peered down at her, "There was a bit of a mix-up this morning. Your locker and your neighbour's were given to the two new students. Brothers, from London, I believe." He continued to prattle, "Merely a simple over-sight, you see. I've organised a new locker combination and location for you and your-"

"Excuse me, sir." Tauriel interrupted, " _I'm_ the one who is going to have to be moved? Permanently?"

Mr. Gandalf cleared his throat rather sternly, "They are new students, Tauriel. Surely you wish to be accommodating? Especially over such a small thing?"

Tauriel suddenly felt very small, indeed. She was behaving like a spoiled brat. It wasn't _that_ much of an inconvenience, after all.

"Yes, I suppose. Sorry sir." 

He waved away her apology with the flick of his wrist.

"No harm, no fowl, Miss Greenleaf. Now, come along, I'll show you to your new locker. You mustn't be late to class, or Mr. Saruman will knock the stuffing out of _both_ of us."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Thanks for all the kudos and comments! I'm so glad people are enjoying my silly, little story. Also, sorry, I know virtually nothing about the mechanics of archery, so please suspend your disbelief!]

As it eventuated, Tauriel's pettiness was entirely warranted. Her new locker location ended up being _that_ much of an inconvenience. 

The two lonely lockers had been moved by workmen to the arse-end of the school, miles (practically) from any of the classrooms, except the dingy art department which seemed to be emitting a hideous aroma of burnt coffee beans. Nauseating, really. 

Sigrid Dale, Tauriel's locker neighbour, was already placing her books in her new locker when Tauriel arrived on the scene. Mr. Gandalf who'd been accompanying Tauriel, handed her a scrap of paper which he announced, in that aggravatingly merry voice of his, was, "Your new locker combination!"

Shortly after this, however, Mr. Gandalf made his excuses to leave (the stench of burnt coffee was nearly overpowering at this point) and soon it was just Tauriel and Sigrid alone in the pungent-smelling corridor. Tauriel approached her new locker, scowl still firmly in place, as she muttered a quick acknowledgment, 

"Hi."

Which was returned by Sigrid, in much the same miserable tone of voice,

"Hi."

As Tauriel read off her new locker combination and spun the numbered dial accordingly, she snuck a quick glance at Sigrid. They'd never really spoken much before, despite the fact they'd been in the same class for years now and in all that time had been locker neighbours. Presumably, this was Tauriel's fault - she spent all her free time with Legolas and his friends - she'd long ago given up on her own classmates, the majority of whom had probably written her off as a stuck-up toff, anyway. But as they'd both been thrown into this desolate isolation from the rest of the school body, perhaps they could form a camaraderie of sorts? (Tauriel _really_ did not like being alone).

"I can't believe they've moved our lockers all the way out here." Tauriel began, her voice saturated with annoyance. Complaining about shared-problems - _everyone_ knew that was the best way to win allegiances. 

"I can!" Sigrid slammed her locker closed with an excessive amount of force, "This entire school is _completely_ sexist. Of course they'd shove us two girls off to the middle of nowhere and give the two new _boys_ our old lockers." 

Tauriel's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise - but then her keen eyes better observed Sigrid in her entirety. She was still wearing the prescribed, dowdy 1950s uniform they were all required to wear, though with a few modern adjustments. On her lapel were a number of pins in an array of technicolours, "FIGHT LIKE A GRRRRL", "My body, my choice", "Cats against cat calls!" and Tauriel's immediate favourite, a small picture of ovaries with the slogan, "Grow a Pair!" 

Sigrid was instantly raised over a hundred pegs higher in Tauriel's estimations. 

Unfortunately, Sigrid hadn't waited around to chat. They never had in the past - only a couple of sentences here and there to be polite or fill an awkward silence - so Tauriel quickly grabbed her books and raced after the girl. Once she'd caught up to Sigrid's brisk pace, Tauriel blurted,

"Where did you get your pins from?"

Sigrid blinked, somewhat taken aback by the fact that Tauriel Greenleaf was initiating another conversation with her,

"I made them myself."

"Really?" Tauriel grinned widely, which was met by a hesitant smile of Sigrid's own, "I think they're cool. Would you make me one?"

Thoroughly taken aback now, Sigrid spluttered, "Um. Sure?"

"Great." Tauriel smiled again, her spirits lifted exponentially. Sigrid, however, was watching Tauriel's smile with weariness,

"You know... you don't _have_ to talk to me if you don't want to, now that it's just us out here. I won't feel bad, or anything." 

It was now Tauriel's turn to appear taken-aback,

"What do you mean?"

"You've never talked to me before." Sigrid was looking determinedly ahead as they walked; her voice tough, her stance defensive, "I'm used to it, y'know. People not talking to me. So, don't feel like you have to."

Tauriel's stomach churned uncomfortably at this revelation. Now that she really thought about it, she'd never seen Sigrid talk to anybody else either. For a moment, Tauriel wondered whether this isolation was self-imposed or not. She hoped, for Sigrid's sake, that it was of her own choosing.

"Well, I don't talk to anyone other than Legolas and his friends, really." Tauriel explained, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable, though she added in a contrite voice, "I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in the past, though. Have I been really dismissive and awful?"

"Not _awful_." Sigrid was quick to correct, "You're just... a very intimidating person."

By this point, Tauriel wasn't merely taken aback. She was absolutely flabbergasted. 

" _Me?_ Intimidating?" 

"Well... yeah." Sigrid answered as if it was obvious, "You're the best in school at pretty much every sport imaginable. Your adopted brother is _Legolas Greenleaf_ , who is the most popular boy around. You're part of the toffs and on top of all that, you're quite pretty. That equals intimidating in my book."

Tauriel's freckled cheeks were glowing scarlet by this point and she stumbled over her response,

"I, uh... I mean. Thank you?" 

"It wasn't meant as a compliment." Sigrid retorted shortly, which made Tauriel feel contrite all over again, 

"No, no, I didn't mean- I just, uh, didn't know how to respond to all that... information. Um." 

Tauriel stopped walking abruptly, stepping infront of Sigrid to halt her movements too, "Look, I'm not really all that great at talking openly like this. But, um." She blurted again, "Can we be mates?" 

It took Sigrid a long while to reply, as she seemed to be studying Tauriel quite intensely. Tauriel, for her part, tried to stop herself from awkwardly fidgeting as she was under examination. Finally, Sigrid flashed Tauriel a wide and genuine smile,

"Alright." 

***

Erebor Comprehensive organised it's students into classes via academic capabilities, based off their past end of year exam results. The teenagers were streamlined into either an "A" or "B" track for all their subjects - which meant all the students in the "A" class felt particularly brilliant about themselves, whilst those in the "B" class felt particularly hopeless. As it was such a small school, the difference between these tracks was more acutely felt. 

After making a new friend in Sigrid, Tauriel had had to leave her fairly quickly. The first period of the day was Mathematics, a track that Tauriel was never going to be in the "A" class for - she just _couldn't_ hack numbers - so she'd waved Sigrid goodbye outside her "A" track classroom. Tauriel, meanwhile, was content with her place in the "B" class. Nobody called on her to answer questions and she was perfectly happy procrastinating as much as she could, as nobody really expected anything from her. She'd doodled her way through the lesson, not paying attention to anyone around her and only looking up occasionally to study the clock over the teacher's desk. She was absolutely _itching_ for the end of period bell to ring, as Physical Education was next - which was, unfortunately, the only class that wasn't organised by skill, but by the alphabet. (She knew she'd be in the "A" track for P.E. if it was possible, though).

She was up and out of her seat before the rest of her Mathematics class had begun to pack away their belongings and she sprinted through the crowded corridor, down a flight of stairs and out into the grounds. The gym was several metres away from the main part of the school and behind the complex, was an outdoor swimming pool (which was icy torture in the winter months) and a large rugby field, which Tauriel and the rest of the archery club (all three members of them) used during after-school practise.

Eagerly, she bolted into the female changing rooms and undressed in a matter of seconds. She was in her gym-kit long before any of the other girls arrived, who all seemed to be grumbling and complaining in unison. (It was entirely confusing to Tauriel how some people didn't _like_ P.E). One of the more sluggish stragglers was Sigrid, who spent an age removing her blazer and tie. Tauriel, spotting her at once, bounded over and perched on the bench beside her,

"Come on! You're taking _ages_. The first P.E. lesson of the year is always archery, since Mr. Glorfindel is crazy OCD about keeping everything alphabetised. And they're not legally allowed to teach abseiling any more, after that one kid broke his leg a couple of years back."

Sigrid looked disgruntled as she changed her black skirt in favour of the standard-issue forest green gym shorts,

"So?"

" _So?!_ Sigrid, if we're going to be mates, you have to understand one thing about me. Archery is my _life_." 

Sigrid rolled her eyes, but the small grin lingering around the edge of her lips didn't escape Tauriel's notice, as she continued to dictate,

"Which means, that _you_ , as my new mate, have to get more excited."

With the enthusiasm of a gnat, Sigrid replied dryly,

"Woo. Archery. Hooray."

Tauriel smirked, always appreciative of sarcasm (even if it was directed at her goofy impassioned self),

"That needs considerable improvement, but at least you're changed now. Come along!"

Tauriel grabbed Sigrid's hand and all but dragged her from the room. 

***

"Archery!"

Mr. Glorfindel clapped his hands together enthusiastically, as he inspected his class. The majority of them looked incredibly disinterested, scuffing their shoes absentmindedly or staring forlornly up into the sky imagining they were anywhere else, but Tauriel was hanging off every syllable and bouncing on the soles of her feet, practically bursting with fervent energy. Her gym teacher continued, 

"A difficult skill to master, but if you do, it can be incredibly rewarding! This is a sport which tests your focus, aim and core-strength. After we've gone around and studied our equipment, we'll have a couple of practise shots! Should be fun, eh? Now, sort yourself into partners, make sure you're wearing the proper safety equipment - that means helmets! - and once you feel confident enough, have a go at trying to hit the targets over there. I'll be wandering around, helping out where I can."

A cacophony of voices broke out at the end of Mr. Glorfindel's speech and Tauriel turned to Sigrid beside her,

"Right. Have you ever used a bow and arrow before?" 

Sigrid had her arms folded across her chest and looked entirely phlegmatic,

"Yeah. But it _was_ a year ago, last time we did this class..."

"No problem! I can refresh your memory. So, this part of the bow is called the riser-" 

As Tauriel set about showing Sigrid the right stance, foot-work and proper way to load an arrow, Mr. Glorfindel meandered through the paired-up students pointing out technique criticisms and encouragements as he went. In exasperation, he marched over to a pair of students and chided,

"Ori, that bow is _far_ too big for you. Choose one of the smaller ones, here." Mr. Glorfindel picked up a more appropriate-sized bow for the skinny youth, then instructed, "Now... load the arrow, _carefully_ now! Right. Good. Now, have a shot for me."

The gym teacher stood back and watched, as Ori let his arrow go - where it sailed in a high arc up into the air and landed in the grass little over five metres from where the class were all standing. This, Mr. Glorfindel thought, was exactly why helmets were absolutely necessary.

"Better than last year, Ori. Keep practising. And maybe try keeping your eyes _open_ this time around, hm?" Mr. Glorfindel turned to Ori's partner, appraising the long-hair lad, "And you? You must be our new student. Your surname's Durin, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir. I'm Kili."

"Right, Kili. Have you ever taken part in an archery lesson before?"

"Yes, sir. I was actually captain on the archery team at my last school."

Mr. Glorfindel's eyebrows raised as he inspected the boy with a renewed sense of interest, "Really? Well, why don't you show me?"

As Mr. Glorfindel stood back to observe, Kili loaded his bow and arrow with the practised ease of a professional. Or, at least, someone who wasn't a complete novice - in stark contrast to the rest of the students, who were mostly still fumbling around with their fletchings. Mr. Glorfindel's smile doubled in size as he noted his new student's perfect stance and the boy's intense focus - then the arrow was released with a whistle, followed by a happy thud produced from the target opposite. 

"You hit the gold! On your very first shot!" Mr. Glorfindel exclaimed in a stunned voice, before moving forward to eagerly grab Kili's hand and shake it ardently, "My boy, I _have_ to talk you into joining our archery club. A fine shot, such as yourself, would be a valuable asset to the team!"

A couple of feet away, Tauriel was _glowering._ She'd watched the whole exchange closely, as had most of the class, and she'd been just as stunned as Mr. Glorfindel when the boy had hit the gold on his very first try. Even for a practised archer, that was an incredibly tricky shot to execute. 

Sigrid nudged her, murmuring quietly,

"Did he just hit a bullseye?"

Scowling, Tauriel refused to answer. She was too busy glaring daggers at the boy in question - who also happened to be the Locker-Thief from earlier that morning, too. Was this guy on a mission to piss her off? He could have her locker, fine! But she'd be _damned_ if he took away her mantle as "best at archery". Archery was _her_ thing, everyone knew it and nobody dared challenge her. She wasn't about to be usurped by some annoying new person. There was no way she was going to take that lying down.

As though Sigrid could read her thoughts, the girl muttered in Tauriel's ear in a low voice,

"You're not going to take that lying down, are you?"

Tauriel glanced at Sigrid and they exchanged a brief, conspiratorial nod. She exhaled sharply, before picking up her bow and stomping over to where Mr. Glorfindel was still congratulating the new boy on his spectacular shot. She pushed through the swarming crowd - everyone seemed to have congregated around the new boy now - and coughed in a pointedly loud manner, effectively interrupting the exchange. With a feigned smile, she spoke breezily,

"Sorry to interrupt, I'm all out of arrows. Going to borrow one of yours, hope you don't mind."

Before she could let either the new boy or Mr. Glorfindel answer, infact they were both staring at her agog, she grabbed an arrow out of the bucket and loaded her bow. She stood poised, confident, but more importantly _ready_ \- and her bow-string sung harmoniously as she let her arrow fly through the air. It hit the target mere centimetres away from where the boy's arrow had landed previously. Although, her arrow had hit in the dead-centre of the gold. It was a perfect shot. 

Aware that the entire class was now gawking at her, Tauriel tried to reign in her smugness. (The cool exit was _always_ better than over-kill). She flashed Mr. Glorfindel a would-be-innocent smile, then a quick, "Thanks!" 

But before turning on her heel to walk away, she narrowed her eyes spitefully at the new boy. The look was sent as a warning: _back off._

Mr. Glorfindel burst into applause, which was echoed by most of the class. Despite what they all thought of Tauriel personally (the phrase "show-off" came to a number of minds), it _had_ been a pretty incredible shot. Tauriel's hands were shaking as she held the bow by her side, full of nervous adrenalin as she walked back over to where Sigrid was standing - whose jaw was practically on the floor.

"That was _unbelievable!_ " 

Tauriel puffed up proudly, though shrugged in a vain attempt at modesty, "Oh, you know. All in a days work."

Sigrid snorted, a hysterical note to the edge of her laughter,

"Are you kidding? You're a _machine_. You certainly put the new boy in his place."

"Well, I couldn't very well let him get away with claiming our lockers _and_ claiming my title as best at archery, could I?"

Sigrid fell about laughing, 

"You're my new feminist icon."

Tauriel giggled, entirely self-satisfied, when she heard from somewhere behind her,

"That really was an amazing shot."

Once again, Tauriel whirled around and was met with the sight of the new boy standing before her. Rather than the smirk he'd worn during their morning encounter, something like awe had diluted his cocky expression - which made Tauriel stand up even straighter. She was slightly taller than him, she happened to notice.

"Are you in the archery team?" The boy asked - rather naively, Tauriel thought.

"I'm _captain_ of the archery club." Tauriel bragged, still riding off the high of executing the perfect, once-in-a-lifetime shot and rubbing it in everyone's faces.

"Cool. Well then, I'm definitely going to try out." The boy's smirk re-appeared, which only proved to aggravate Tauriel more. 

"Good luck." She replied in a deceptively, sickly sweet manner, though her eyes flashed dangerously. The boy hesitated, baffled by her mixed message,

"Err. Right. Thanks." 

He was about to turn on his heel and walk back to where Ori was packing away the safety equipment, as it was already the end of the period, when he suddenly thrust his hand out,

"I'm Kili, by the way. Kili Durin."

Tauriel eyed the outstretched hand but instead of politely accepting his greeting, she swung her sheath of arrows over her shoulder and flicked her hair,

"Tauriel."

Before Kili could say anything further, Tauriel had turned her back to him, ignoring him entirely as she nodded at Sigrid, 

"Come on. We've got Lit class next."

Sigrid replied by falling into a bout of giggles, all, quite obviously, at Kili's expense.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Not going to lie, this makes for a pretty wild first day back at school. Thanks for continuing to read!]

Tauriel wrinkled her nose, freckles scrunching in distaste, "I think the burnt coffee smell has migrated to the cafeteria." 

Sigrid, who'd followed behind Tauriel into the lunch line, wondered, "You don't think it's following _us_ , do you?" There was a beat, then she added, "Oh, shoot. Maybe it's already permeated into our clothes."

"I _refuse_ to be known as the 'burnt-coffee-smell-girls'. I have some body spray in my bag somewhere, hold on." Tauriel pushed her tray at Sigrid to hold, whilst she rummaged around in the bottomless pit, which constituted her satchel. 

The lunch queue, which had been slowly shuffling forward as students made the understandably _arduous_ choice between watery spaghetti bolognese or lumpy bangers and mash, quite suddenly thinned out. Students all around them were talking excitedly and heckling one another - the atmosphere was almost akin to a rowdy crowd at a football match.

"What's going on?" Sigrid vocalised, which was met by a shrug from an equally inquisitive Tauriel,

"Want to go find out?"

After ditching their bags and trays, they followed the throng of jeering students out into the courtyard beyond the cafeteria to where an even larger mob had amassed. The noise that reverberated off the stone walls of the courtyard was absolutely, extraordinarily deafening, as a chant was going around,

" _ **FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!**_ "

"I should have known!" Sigrid yelled over the din, her fingers wedged into her ears, "There's too much testosterone at this school!"

Tauriel sniggered, though she'd be lying if she acted as though she was above morbid curiosity. Scuffles were always breaking out at Erebor Comprehensive, but they never usually drew an assembly _this_ large. 

Though the two girls were on the outer edges of the fray, Tauriel still had her height as an advantage (usually a cause for awkward teenage insecurity, but when trying to see over other people's heads - very handy). She stood up on her tip-toes, as Sigrid yelled in her ear,

"What's going on? Who's fighting?"

Tauriel yelled back, keeping up a running-dialogue for her shorter friend's benefit,

"I can't really see clearly! There's loads of people in the way- um, I _think_ it's two sixth form boys. They look too big to be any younger - wow, why would you risk fighting when you were so close to getting your A Levels? Especially on the first day of school, anyway - uh, okay, so one has sandy coloured hair - ouch, wow, he just got punch in the gut! The other guy has-"

Tauriel froze mid-sentence.

"The other guy has _what?_ " Sigrid shouted cluelessly, but Tauriel hadn't heard.

Her momentary paralysis had lifted and instead, disparately, she was all movement - brash, reckless, _unthinking_ impulse. She shoved her way through the horde, bowling people over who didn't move out of the way in time for her and heedlessly created a path for herself through the bodies. She propelled forward, muscling her way through, until she reached the centre of the crushing, hissing swarm. A garbled, frantic scream bubbled up from her chest and tore through her,

" _Legolas!_ "

Legolas' head snapped up to attention, like a bloodhound that had caught onto a scent and he found Tauriel's eyes almost instantly. _How_ he'd managed to hear her terrified squeak over the roaring wall of noise surrounding them was lost on Tauriel - she didn't care. Legolas; noble, straight-laced, universally adored _Legolas Greenleaf_ was all-out brawling. It was unthinkable. Inconceivable. 

How long they kept eye-contact was hard to measure - it was a moment that was suspended in time. Perhaps by their miniscule movements they could be better judged; either by Tauriel's pupils blown millimetres wider by fear or by a trickle of blood that dribbled down Legolas' chin, from his split-lip. 

Or perhaps by the most significant movement yet, both in importance and spectacle, that came from Fili Durin.

In that matter of time, Fili's hard fist connected with the side of Legolas' face. As Legolas had turned away from his opponent, momentarily distracted it appeared, Fili had used the few lucky seconds allotted to him to land a well-aimed punch. (And he certainly punched with _all_ of his might).

Legolas fell backwards, his head rolling, legs staggering, until he hit the courtyard floor with a thud.

But all Tauriel saw was red.

When asked later, Tauriel wouldn't be able to explain how she physically moved from point A to point B. One moment she was watching Legolas topple over to the ground like a giant tree, the next she was actually on top of the sandy haired boy - punching, biting, clawing, scratching - at any part of the other boy she could get her hands on.

Like a wild, feral animal, she had attacked, seemingly out of nowhere and had caught Fili by complete surprise. Blind-sided, they'd both been knocked backwards by the force of Tauriel's rash movements and for a good, long while Fili had been too stunned to even try to wriggle free. Eventually, however, he was able to flip them both over so that Tauriel was pinned underneath him - he had an incredible brute strength about him - and though she struggled, he pinned her arms down by her sides.

This was the scene that Mr. Saruman, headmaster of Erebor Comprehensive, walked in upon.

***

"NEVER IN ALL MY YEARS AS AN EDUCATOR HAVE I BEEN WITNESS TO SUCH _APPALLING_ BEHAVIOUR!"

Mr. Saruman was inconsolable. Infact, he was rather purple in the face.

"And from SIXTH FORMERS! On the _FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!_ "

He continued to roar, pacing restlessly around his desk,

"One of you, talk! Right now! What's the meaning of all this! Explain yourselves!"

The three students before him just sunk lower in their chairs, all sporting blue bruises, bloodied lips or noses and sheepish expressions. Mr. Saruman had been yelling at them for the past forty minutes, but none had broken their silence. He turned to Legolas, his finger pointed directly between the boys eyes,

"Don't be a fool, Legolas. You're planning to go to Oxford next year, aren't you? You can all but kiss those plans goodbye. That is, unless you tell me exactly what happened."

The boy remained mute, glaring stubbornly ahead. Mr. Saruman turned to interrogate the sandy-haired boy next,

"So, Fili Durin? You pick a fight on your first day at my school. What's to stop me from expelling you, hm? It'd be as though you never set foot in my school, that you never darkened my doorstep."

Apparently threats weren't working either, as Fili was staring intensely at spot on the wall to the left, completely unmoved. Scowling, Mr. Saruman turned to the only female in the group, 

"What do you think Mr. Greenleaf will say about all this, Tauriel? How do you think this will look on your permanent record? Embarrassing, wouldn't you say? Especially as an election is coming up for Mr. Greenleaf. Can he afford any embarrassments?"

The girl's green eyes widened and Mr. Saruman's expression changed to one of grim determination. _Finally_ , he'd managed to elicit a response. He knew if he pushed the right buttons, eventually one of them would break. They always did.

Unfortunately...

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but-"

Mr. Saruman glowered,

"Grima! Can't you see I'm busy disciplining these trouble makers! Besides, I thought I told you to _knock!_ "

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It's just that their parents are here, sir. I didn't know whether I should send them in or not." Mr. Saruman's greasy assistant stammered, completely flustered.

Mr. Saruman, by contrast, became rather at ease with the delivery of such news. His expression changed - he became the calm, methodical, trustworthy leader everyone expected him to be - and he sat himself down behind his desk, before motioning to Grima,

"Send them in."

Mere moments later, a stocky, dark-haired woman burst through the door and hurried over to where Fili was seated, grabbing him by the jaw and inspecting every inch of his face, as he tried to squirm away from the inspection. A man similar in stature and look had followed the woman in and he came to rest behind Fili's chair, a thunderous look in his eyes under dark eyebrows. Lastly, the statuesque, blonde figure of Thranduil Greenleaf sauntered into the room; a livid expression twisting his features. He did not come to stand behind either his son or his ward's chairs, but remained closest to the door.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I've assembled you all here today-"

The dark-haired man interrupted Mr. Saruman, his voice inflections as hard as hewed rock,

"Save your pleasantries, we don't need to hear it. What I want to know is why my nephew was _brutalised_ on his first day at this school! And what the hell you're going to do about it!"

"Uncle-" Fili spoke for the first time since entering Mr. Saruman's office, twisting around in his chair to glimpse his uncle properly, but he was met with a forceful tap on his shoulder from the man instead,

"Be _quiet_ , Fili. Go on, headmaster, explain it to me!" He all but exploded, sneering, "What sort of school do you run here?"

Mr. Saruman grimaced at the insinuation, then haughtily stared down the length of his (rather long and crooked) nose at the man in question,

"Please, Mr. Durin, if you'd just take a seat, then we can discuss this-"

"So _you're_ Thorin Durin?" 

The unexpected question came from Thranduil, who had so far been removed from the conversation from where he lingered at the back of the room. He was studying the dark-haired man with a ferocious intensity. Thorin himself puffed up noticeably, his back straightening as he eyed Thranduil, replying gruffly,

"Who's asking?

"Your current member of parliament, Thranduil Greenleaf." 

Thranduil moved forward with a subtle grace and he advanced towards Thorin. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and his words were dripping with a hidden undercurrent,

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the leader of the opposition and my running opponent. Or haven't you declared yourself, yet?" 

Thranduil held his hand out-stretched in greeting, which Thorin eyed with deep mistrust. His muscle-bound arms remained firmly crossed over his chest, ignoring the gesture.

For a moment, Tauriel, who was twisted around in her seat and raptly watching the exchange, was transported to earlier that day and the similar incident that had occurred between Kili and herself. Now that she thought about it, hadn't Kili said his surname was Durin, too? However, there was no time to ponder on that trivial point, not when Thorin was speaking in that commanding tone of his,

"Aye, I have. I just came from a union meeting, actually. Campaign's full speed ahead. It's not going to be a cake walk for you this year, Greenleaf, I can assure you of that. We're coming for Erebor."

Thranduil's face twisted grotesquely and he hissed, seething,

"Legolas. Tauriel. Get up. We're leaving."

Mr. Saruman, who'd remained passive during this entire commentary - infact, he'd been watching the power struggle between the two men back and forth like a volley in a tennis match - suddenly remembered himself and his duties as a headmaster, 

"I'm afraid, Mr. Greenleaf, that we still have to discuss the matter of the children's punishment-"

Thranduil snarled, "Oh, I can assure you, Mr. Saruman, these two will be punished. Severely."

"Yes, but-" Mr. Saruman rose from his chair desperately, as Tauriel and Legolas (who had their heads bowed against the glare received from Thranduil) scuttled towards the office door. Thorin, meanwhile, stated, 

"Fili too shall be punished. I don't think any of us need waste your time further, headmaster."

"Now, really-" Mr. Saruman began, peeved that he hadn't been able to exert his power over anyone yet, when Thranduil added,

"I will discuss this matter further with you at the next school-board meeting, headmaster. Perhaps in the new Greenleaf wing of the Library?"

Even Tauriel, as small and as silent as she was trying to make herself appear to evade her guardian's wrath, had to stifle a snort at that one. _Subtle_ , Thranduil. Was he really going to bribe Saruman into silence?

Thorin scoffed loudly, then muttered something to the woman kneeling beside Fili, who nodded fervently in agreement. They then both fixed identical, disgusted gazes at Thranduil. However, the bribe - loosely given as it was - seemed to quieten Mr. Saruman. Or perhaps he was just so overcome with exhaustion, or had simply given up on the whole affair. Whatever the reason, he slumped down into his chair once again, with a very defeated set to his rounded shoulders.

Without any further ado, Thranduil stormed out of the headmaster's office - which meant that Legolas and Tauriel were expected to scurry in his wake. Trailing behind with her head down, Tauriel followed silently behind Legolas into the reception foyer. When suddenly,

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Tauriel looked up at the commotion and it was Kili (of all people!) - who looked wild; frantic with anxiety - booming the question at her, from half-way across the reception room.

Thranduil and Legolas halted their movements and both shot Tauriel a perplexed look, which all she could do was return with added vigour. She had no idea what was going on, either. Was Kili even addressing her?

"Tauriel!" Kili demanded sharply.

"What?!" Tauriel asked helplessly, feeling entirely put on the spot, "What do you want!"

"Where's my brother!" Kili demanded once again.

"Brother?" Tauriel murmured faintly. How the hell was she supposed to know?

"Yes, _brother!_ " Kili's worry was more evident in his voice as he urged, "I heard he was in the headmaster's, as he got into a fight with someone, but _you're_ coming out of the office, so I don't understand what-"

"Kili?"

Tauriel whirled around and became aware that Thorin was standing at close quarters, with both Fili and the dark-haired woman not far behind. Thorin spoke again, 

"Kili, what are you doing? Come here." 

Tauriel watched as Kili moved to stand by Thorin's side - and she blinked rapidly. Side by side, the family resemblance was uncanny. He certainly was a Durin.

"Tauriel."

Thranduil beckoned to her with an acidic voice. It only took one word from him and she immediately remembered herself and remembered just how much trouble she and Legolas were both in. She turned her back on Kili and fell into line behind Legolas, marching solemnly towards the exit. Before they left, Thranduil spoke in a deliberately loud voice, or one that he knew would carry to the other end of the room,

"Neither of you are permitted to associate with any of Durin's folk from here on out. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Tauriel and Legolas chorused obediently.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: I have to apologise to all my readers profusely for the delay in releasing this chapter! I've been without internet for over a month (I really don't know how I survived either) and have just been very busy in general due to the fact I'm an adult now (I hate being an adult. Peter Pan, sign me up for a one-way ticket to Neverland). This is a pretty short chapter! Again, lots of angst and drama, so hopefully you all love it. I should be releasing Ch.5 pretty soon too!]

The car ride back to Greenleaf Manor was conducted in absolute silence. There was a palpable tension, a toxic atmosphere that settled upon the luxury interior of the limousine as soon as the chauffeur drove away from the curb, that neither Tauriel nor Legolas dared break.

Legolas' grey eyes kept flickering towards his Father, watching him intently as though Thranduil was a ticking time bomb threatening to implode at any given moment. However, Tauriel knew better - having been on the receiving end of Thranduil's wrath vastly more often than Legolas - she knew how her guardian operated. He wouldn't dare discipline the children infront of his staff. Witnesses were messy; they had a horrible habit of eavesdropping and perpetuating embarrassment through village gossip and the like. No, Thranduil would be discrete. He'd wait until the three of them were out of ear-shot from anyone on his payroll. 

Greenleaf Manor, with it's imposing Palladian architecture, rolled into Tauriel's peripheral vision and with it a growing sense of dread. She could feel Legolas twitch nervously beside her.

Eventually, the car came to a crunching halt on the gravel beside the ornate front doors and Lindir turned off the engine. Thranduil's manservant, Galion, opened the car door and Thranduil haughtily exited first. Tauriel followed in quick pursuit, Legolas only seconds after her - their heads bowed slightly in both reverence and shame as they crossed the threshold into Greenleaf's entrance hall. 

"Galion, you may communicate to the rest of the staff that they have the afternoon off."

"But sir," Galion stammered, utterly confused as he removed Thranduil's travel jacket, "The cleaners are still upstairs in the bedrooms. And what is to be done about dinner? Surely the cook can-"

Thranduil's voice took on a frosty tone, "No 'buts', Galion. I expect the house to be cleared of all staff in less than ten minutes."

He even pulled the silver pocket-watch out of his waist coat for emphasis. (Galion departed the scene almost immediately.)

Thranduil strode forward, his silver-tipped cane issuing a staccato of ominous thuds as he moved through the marbled hall. The walking aid was another of Thranduil's eccentric, almost Victorian necessities - not that he actually needed it to assist him walk - it was more a frivolous fashion accessory. Though, it only served to make him appear more inaccessible and formidable. He was quite literally, in Tauriel's opinion, a caricature of some filthy rich miser. Or at the very least, a complete cliche.

However, Legolas and Tauriel both knew this was their cue to follow - Thranduil needn't articulate commands - his movements were commanding enough as it was. He led the teenagers past various drawing rooms and lounge rooms, until they reached the inner sanctum itself, Thranduil's study. Tauriel could count on one hand the number of times in her entire life that she'd been permitted to enter the room, let alone actually _invited_ inside.

She heard Legolas gulp audibly, as Thranduil shut the heavy wooden door behind them. There was no escape now.

Thranduil's face remained expressionless as he seated himself behind his desk. 

Tauriel held her breath.

"Both of your actions this afternoon have brought irrevocable shame on our family. You have embarrassed and disappointed me."

Thranduil's words were barely audible - no more than a vicious whisper - but they seemed to roar, amplified, inside Tauriel's ears.

"You are Greenleafs. You are both expected to constantly and consistently act in a manner that is befitting our family name. Not to behave like _savages_ , akin to the townsfolk you were seen publicly brawling with."

He continued, his words more of a deadly hiss than anything else,

"I, rather foolishly, believed that I brought you both up to maintain a certain level of dignity, or at the very least, a pride in our family name which was to be reflected in the way you present yourselves to the outside world. But, it is apparent, that that standard of behaviour does not exist. Clearly I am not strict enough on you both. I have afford you too much leniency and have indulged you both too much. Which is why, effective immediately, some new rules are to be put in place which ought to straighten out how the both of you conduct yourselves."

Thranduil's wintery gaze pierced them both for a long moment, before he continued,

"You are both going to be more involved in my campaign. You shall be helping me out and devoting all your spare time outside of study to the campaign. Therefore, neither of you shall be allowed to partake in any of your chosen extra-curricular activities this year. No after school clubs, sports teams or after school socialising. You are only permitted to leave the estate grounds for school and in the afternoon, you shall come back here and work on the campaign. If you are required to visit the town, it shall only be after it has reached my consideration and then, and _only_ then, you shall be supervised by Galion or Lindir. Is that all understood?"

In a hollow and numbly automative tone, both Tauriel and Legolas signed their lives away by agreeing in obedient unison,

"Yes, sir."

"Tauriel," Thranduil fixed her with his perspicacious glare, "On top of this, you are to start attending elocution and finishing classes. This is not negotiable. Do you understand?" 

Silently seething, Tauriel had no choice but to bite her tongue and comply with a monotone,

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You are to start behaving like a young lady, not some common ruffian. Now, get out of my sight, the both of you."

Neither of them could abscond fast enough. Fleeing from the study, both Legolas and Tauriel continued to march through the hallways - eerily quiet now that all the staff had been dismissed for the afternoon - until they burst from the claustrophobic, oppressive confines of the manor and out into the glorious afternoon sunlight.

"You're _such_ an idiot!" Legolas exploded, barely waiting for the front door to swing shut behind them before rounding on Tauriel.

She spluttered, " _I'm_ such an idiot?! You're the one who was fighting! _You_ started all this, you idiot!"

"Well _you_ certainly finished it." Legolas retorted hotly.

Not allowing herself to rise to such baiting, she continued angrily, "Why _did_ you start it, hm? I deserve some answers, Legolas."

Legolas' demeanour changed almost capriciously - he ducked his head and began kicking up the gravel - before answering, with noticeably less fire in his voice,

"He was talking badly about our family."

Tauriel's eyebrows knotted into a frown, "Why didn't you tell Thranduil that?"

Exasperatedly, Legolas threw his arms up into the air, "It wouldn't have made a difference! He'd still have come down on us just as hard. You know, 'Fist fights aren't the way to solve issues', acting in an 'uncouth' manner and all that shit. Blah, blah, blah." He rambled, still kicking at gravel underfoot. 

Tauriel rubbed distractedly at her right knuckle, which was starting to blossom in purpling bruises, "'Fraid I'd have to agree with Thranduil on that. Not the uncouth part, but the fighting part." She paused, then added in utter incomprehension, "I still can't believe that _you_ got into a fight."

"It's not as if I threw the first punch." Legolas replied moodily.

"When I got there, you were punching the guy in the gut."

"Look, it escalated, alright?"

"I'll say."

Legolas rounded on her, his voice aggressive once again, 

" _You_ didn't need to throw yourself in there though! Don't you realise how stupid that was? You could have been seriously hurt." Legolas suddenly appraised her, shaking his head in irritation, "You just don't think before you do things sometimes. It's really bloody annoying, you know."

"I'm not the one sporting a black eye!" Tauriel pointed out snappishly.

With a frustrated, garbled growl of noise (he was clearly beyond articulating words now), Legolas stomped away from Tauriel, muttering furiously under his breath.

"Oi!" 

Tauriel tore after him, catching up to him as they reached the sprawling lawns. She pulled forcefully on the back of his school shirt, wheeling him around to face her, her tone acerbic,

"Didn't quite catch any of that muttering. If you've got something to say, say it to my face."

Legolas stared at the horizon, resolutely ignoring her. Irked, Tauriel shoved him backwards, trying desperately to provoke him into answering her,

"Go on! Say whatever the hell it is that you have to say to me!"

Finally, Legolas met her gaze and narrowed his eyes,

"Fine. You wanna hear what I have to say? Here it is: I sometimes think Dad's right about you. You should start acting more like a lady."

Tauriel felt as though she'd been slapped. Betrayal, bitter like bile, rose in her throat and for a beat she was stunned into silence. That moment passed rather quickly, however. She was apoplectic. Her rage would not, _could_ not, be subdued for long,

" **TAKE IT BACK!** "

"No." Legolas stared her down, stubbornly unwavering despite the depth of her fury, "I won't. You need to just... _stop_ sometimes, Tauriel. You have to remember who you are. You're not a bloke. You act like you're one the guys, but you're just _not_ , alright? Acting like that was fine when we were kids and maybe for the last couple of years, but we're almost adults now. You need to grow up."

And in the ultimate display of immaturity - as words (verbose ones, that _didn't_ compound all that Legolas had said) had failed her now - Tauriel savagely hissed,

"I _hate_ you."

She turned and ran headlong away from the manor grounds and from Legolas. She sprinted towards Greenwood forest, hoping to be lost in the thicket of trees before tears would inevitably spill down her face. 

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time she reached the tree-line, her chest was heaving with gut-wrenching sobs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Thanks so much for continuing to read, post comments and send me kudos! I'm so glad people are enjoying the story ♡]

All anyone at Erebor Comprehensive could talk about for the next several days was the fight. Much to Tauriel's chagrin (Legolas', apparently _very_ accurate, words were still ringing in her head), nobody was particularly surprised by her involvement. Most of her cohort had already (and somewhat correctly) labelled her as a show-off - thus such reckless, showy behaviour was hardly out of character.

It was Legolas - yes, _the_ Legolas Greenleaf - who was known to all to maintain a pristinely preppy, straight-laced, "nice boy" image, for which he was universally adored, that everyone was shocked by. His participation had given him a definite edge: if it were possible, the student population seemed to revere him more. The male population worshipped him, clapping him on the back respectfully and making a champion out of his 'heroism', whilst the endless gaggle of female admirers pined for him most ardently, now he appeared to be a 'rebel'.

It didn't seem to matter that Legolas, technically speaking, hadn't won the fight. Regardless, his celebrity had doubled and he was infamous around the school. It made Tauriel sick. Everywhere she went she was confronted by talk of the fight - either silly girls gossiping in the bathrooms about how 'dreamy' Legolas was, or muscle-bound gorillas in the gym lauding over Legolas' punching techniques.

Being constantly reminded of Legolas wouldn't have bothered her, usually. But it'd been three days since everything had occurred and she and Legolas _still_ weren't speaking to one another. 

An unsettlingly cold silence had descended upon Greenleaf Manor. Thranduil wasn't speaking to either of his children unless direct, no-nonsense questions were involved and Tauriel and Legolas each refused to be the first one to initiate conversation with the other. They were both equally as stubborn - but they'd never gone more than a day before one of them would give in and everything would be back to normal. Three days apart felt more like three years.

Tauriel was genuinely hurt by Legolas' words. He'd always been her number one supporter. Infact, she couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been in her corner, either defending or championing her actions. But now, he was being downright unfair. His anger was completely baffling and unjustified to her, as it had seemingly come from nowhere. Yes, she _could_ have been hurt, but the point was that she _hadn't_ been - save some minor scrapes and bruises - and really, what did he expect? For her to wait patiently on the sidelines, watching as he got beaten to a pulp?! She wasn't that person, she just didn't have it in her to hold back. Legolas knew that. He knew her better than anyone else. So, why was he asking her to be someone that she just wasn't? She'd _never_ be Thranduil's version of a 'lady' - an archaic notion that probably meant she was required to wear crinoline skirts, curtsey and wait for a male to escort her places. Why was Legolas expecting her to become that?

***

Tauriel was seated quietly in the geography classroom, the first to arrive to lunch-time detention. Mr. Saruman had decided to exert his power as headmaster after all, issuing Tauriel, Legolas and Fili with detentions for the remainder of the term. A very timid punishment as far as discipline went, but the man didn't want to appear to have done nothing. Rule-breakers, no matter whose child they were, had to be seen to be punished. (Although if the rule-breakers were anyone else's children, they would have been suspended at the very least).

Usually, this sacrifice of her free time would have bothered Tauriel. The forty five minutes the students were allotted for lunch had once been the highlight of her day - a time when she could socialise with Legolas and his sixth form friends as she didn't get to see them during lessons - but now that Legolas and her weren't on speaking terms, she imagined this time would have become a solitary and lonely affair. Infact, she was rather glad for the detentions. At least it gave her something to do.

She picked apart the bland cheese and ham sandwich she'd purchased earlier in the cafeteria and continued to sulk and wallow in her own misery. She'd had to tell Mr. Glorfindel that morning that she was quitting the archery club... which had been absolutely _excruciating_. The look of devastation on the man's face was an expression that Tauriel was not likely to forget. As she munched forlornly on the crusts, wrinkling her freckled nose at the staleness of the bread, the classroom door opened and Fili waltzed in.

As he'd done for the past three lunchtimes, he ignored her existence entirely. He sat down at a desk near the front of the room, pulled out his lunch - another sad, soggy sandwich purchased at the cafeteria like Tauriel's own - and began wolfing it down.

Covertly, Tauriel watched him. Fili Durin, like Legolas, had also become something of an instant celebrity in the aftermath of the fight. He wasn't nearly as popular as Legolas - people didn't know him well enough yet - but the fact that he was from London and with a seemingly cosmopolitan and enigmatic background meant that he was a topic of wild speculation. Similarly, Kili, his younger brother was often a topic of conjecture. Especially in the girl's bathrooms. If the giggling horde wasn't swooning over Legolas, they were sighing over 'those dashing Durin brothers', all despite the fact that Kili hadn't even been involved in the fight. The whole thing was nauseating, in Tauriel's (rather grouchy) opinion.

Tauriel had kept her ears open for tidbits about the brothers, curious despite herself. Legolas hadn't elaborated on the exact reasons why the fight had occurred, other than his vague, almost leading comment during their argument - and she hadn't dared break her vow of silence towards him to ask - but it was intriguing all the same. She presumed the initial fight must have ensued due to each parties familial connections. Tauriel didn't know enough about politics (and frankly, didn't care all that much about it), but she could tell that Thranduil had been intimidated by the Durin brother's uncle, Thorin, when they'd first encountered each other in Mr. Saruman's office.

Though, she knew that couldn't have been the _whole_ story. As she doubted Legolas would have thrown himself rashly into a brawl over his Father's political persuasions.

Speaking of the devil - or rather, thinking of him - Legolas appeared in the classroom doorway, followed at close quarters by Mr. Gandalf. Legolas, like Fili, ignored Tauriel's existence entirely and chose to sit behind a desk on the furthest side of the room from where she was situated.

She sighed loudly to herself, supposing that this was what invisible people must feel like. (Not to be arrogant or anything - Tauriel assured herself internally - but she'd _never_ been invisible before. She had bright red hair, for goodness sakes! She was like a walking beacon!)

"Happy Friday, children!" 

Mr Gandalf chirped merrily, clearly not gauging the miserable expressions on all three of his detainees faces. He clapped his hands together, before continuing, 

"You all know the drill by now. No talking, just finish your lunch and get on with some homework. Talk to you all again in forty five minutes!"

Gandalf then took out his Ipod touch - new technology contrasted ridiculously with his eccentric appearance - plugged his headphones in, closed his eyes and started humming along to the dulcet tones of Bohemian Rhapsody. 

With nothing left to do, Tauriel finished her lunch in silence. The room was tense, awkward, with only the sounds of chewing, swallowing and wrapping paper crinkling to break the vice-principal's off key hums. Tauriel kept sneaking glances over at Legolas - who had his arms crossed defensively over his chest and was glaring directly ahead of him - ignoring her looks (which she _knew_ he could sense or probably even see out of his peripheral vision). 

Annoyed by the fact he was quite so obviously ignoring her, Tauriel swivelled around in her chair and glared at him - narrowing her eyes and hoping that telepathically, somehow, he'd concede and make eye-contact with her. It took forty minutes of (nearly) unblinking, intense stares, until Legolas cracked.

He rounded on her and hissed, having to keep his voice low so as to not alert Gandalf,

"What?!"

Tauriel cocked her head backwards, a self-satisfied and smug expression turning her lips upwards. He'd cracked. She'd won. Now all he had left to do was apologise to her for being (almost) unforgivably rude and they could go back to being best mates. An apology couldn't come quicker, in her opinion. She'd never admit it to him, but she'd missed Legolas dreadfully.

It appeared Legolas had other designs, however. He didn't acknowledge her smile or shoot her one back. He merely rolled his eyes and then resumed glaring ahead, apparently content to continue ignoring her.

Tauriel huffed, absolutely stunned. Why was he being _so_ immature? Couldn't he just apologise already? She was sick of not talking to him. Frustrated, she pulled her writing pad towards her and quickly scribbled out the note,

_Are you done being angry at me yet? Hurry up and apologise!_

She then scrunched the note up into a ball of paper and flung it across the room, where it hit Legolas on the side of his head. Scowling, Legolas undid the wad, studied the note for a brief moment then crumpled it back into a ball again where it remained tightly clenched in his fist. This time, he flat-out refused to acknowledge Tauriel altogether.

Fortunately the bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch period, before Tauriel could throw her writing pad along with the other heavy or pointy objects at her disposal at Legolas' head, also. 

In all honesty, she didn't know whether she'd seen Legolas move so fast before. He was up and out of his seat within a mere matter of moments, darting towards the door. Tauriel shoved her belongings into her satchel then tore after him, ignoring the cheerful, "Have a good weekend!" from Mr. Gandalf, who had since extracted himself from the easy listening of Queen's Greatest Hits.

"Are you really going to keep ignoring me? Forever?" Tauriel yelled, chasing after Legolas as he hastened down the stairwell. He didn't even bother to turn around.

"Fine!" She screech venomously at his retreating figure, halting in her pursuit, "Don't talk to me! See if I care! _Wanker!_ "

Fili chose that exact moment to edge around her as he exited the detention room, his eyebrows raised contemptuously. Tauriel sneered, instantly on the defensive as she spat,

"What the hell are you looking at?"

He shrugged, his expression still scornful as he remarked, gesturing to the empty stairwell that Legolas had since vacated,

"Sounds more like a lovers quarrel than anything brother or sisterly."

Tauriel's lip curled,

"Piss off. You don't know a thing about it."

He shrugged once again, offering her another infuriatingly disparaging expression,

"Merely an observation, Greenleaf."

***

Tauriel trudged back to her locker, a horribly defeated set to her shoulders. Sigrid was already there, pulling out the thick textbooks needed for the afternoon lessons. She offered Tauriel a sympathetic smile as the redhead approached, 

"You look even more sad now than you did this morning after talking to Mr. Glorfindel."

Tauriel busied herself with turning the numbered dial on her locker, explaining in a dull voice,

"Legolas still refuses to speak to me. Or even _look_ at me, really."

Sigrid reasoned confidently, "Don't worry about him. He'll come around. I mean, you do live together. He's got to acknowledge you at some point, even for practical purposes." 

"Yeah but I don't even see why he's still giving _me_ the silent treatment! I didn't do anything wrong! _He's_ the one who was a prick to me, saying what he said."

Tauriel had given Sigrid a full run-down on the argument the next day at school. Sigrid had ranted about sexism and blatant misogyny for a full twenty minutes - until she'd realised she'd gone off on a slight tangent when she'd started prattling on about her interpretation of Simone de Beauvoir's seminal classic 'The Second Sex' - still, Tauriel appreciated her new friends unwavering support. Which again, she offered in a gentle voice,

"I'm sorry Taur... I really can't explain why Legolas is acting the way he is. Obviously he's got his own issues to sort out before he comes back and talks to you. But he _will_ talk to you, eventually. He's not going to risk loosing you over something as stupid as this."

"Yeah. I hope so." Tauriel slammed her locker shut with an unwarranted (though satisfying) amount of force, "Still, I deserve an apology."

"You do. What he said was really unfair. I don't know your Father-"

Tauriel quickly corrected, "-my guardian."

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Guardian-" Sigrid apologised quickly before continuing, "-but it seems as though backwards comments like that are sort of expected from him. Doesn't make it right, _obviously_ , but for Legolas to do a total 180 on you. Well, I mean..."

"Yeah." Tauriel agreed, "It flat out _sucks._ "

"Hmmm." Sigrid made a noise of commiseration, then added in a brighter voice, "Hey, it's Friday! Why don't you come over to my house later? Get your mind of things? We can watch this really interesting documentary I taped on Germaine Greer, it's supposed to be really compelling. Oh! And you can meet my brother and sister. Tilda's really into barbie dolls at the moment, which you can help me persuade her out of as-"

"I can't, Sigrid." Tauriel sighed, "Sorry. Part of Thranduil's new rules. I'm not allowed to have a social life. I'm grounded til... well, who knows when."

Sigrid frowned, "Really? So you're just going to stay locked up in that big house... where Thranduil and Legolas aren't speaking to you?"

"Seems like it." Tauriel sighed heavily. However, half a beat later a mischievous expression replaced her beaten one, "Well... _actually._ "

Grinning impishly, Sigrid studied Tauriel's new expression, "I like the sound of that 'actually'..."

Tauriel leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "What Thranduil said is that I'm not permitted to leave Greenleaf Manor's _grounds_. He didn't say anything about being confined to the _house_."

Sigrid raised an eyebrow, "Um... I fail to see where this is going."

"Greenwood Forest is just on the edge of Greenleaf's grounds, right? And that's a public wood, anyone can walk around there and it isn't considered trespassing. Do you see where I'm going with this now?"

"You, uh, um..." Sigrid tried for a moment, then shook her head, "Nope. Still not following you."

Tauriel smirked, "What I'm saying, you dummy, is that we can meet up on the edge of the woods! Bring a picnic, music... I'll steal some of Thranduil's expensive wine. You know, make a night of it? A big "fuck you" to the bastard, without technically breaking his rules if I remain on Greenleaf's land."

Sigrid giggled, "Wow. That's pretty naughty. I dig it."

"Yeah well, I'm already doing hard time in detention. May as well start acting like a criminal, you know?" Tauriel grinned wider, "So you're in?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: So, I'm a sucker for lab-partner tropes. Sue me. Also, I can't claim ownership over any of the science-related jokes, I either found them on the internet or heard them from my vastly more intelligent friends. Enjoy the chapter!]

After organising when and where they'd meet later on that night, Sigrid and Tauriel parted ways outside the science labs. Sigrid was in the 'A' track for Physics (she seemed to be in the 'A' track for most things) and Tauriel found Physics to be too close to the discipline of Mathematics to warrant her effort. As the girls had been conspiring for too long - or perhaps it was due to the fact that their lockers were _that_ much further away from the main part of the school now - Tauriel found that she arrived to class ten minutes late. 

Discretely, Tauriel tried to sneak into the room and slip into one of the open seats at the back of the laboratory. Unfortunately her teacher, Mr. Radagast, had particularly keen eyes. He singled her out by calling across the wide expanse of the classroom,

"Late, Miss Greenleaf! I presume you don't have a pass?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir." Tauriel answered in her most contrite voice, feeling the weight of the entire classroom's eyes upon her.

"Yes, well, I'll overlook this tardiness for the moment, as your contribution to the class population means that we are at even numbers again. Which works out rather well."

Mr. Radagast shuffled through some papers on his desk while Tauriel fidgeted, still standing awkwardly near the back of the room. She was aware that most of her cohort were still gawking. Eventually Mr. Radagast gestured, 

"Come forward, Miss Greenleaf. You're to be paired with our new student, Mr. Durin."

Kili, with his ridiculously hipster man-bun on full display, turned around in his seat and shot Tauriel a shit-eating grin.

"You're kidding." Tauriel blurted, refusal evident in her tone as she eyed Kili with an expression that could only be described as abject horror.

Clearly Mr. Radagast was so far removed from the goings-on of Erebor Comprehensive (and possibly from the world around him - jury was still out on that one), that he hadn't heard of the public spectacle Tauriel, Legolas and Fili Durin had embroiled themselves in on the very first day of school. Everyone knew there was a feud between the Greenleafs and the Durins. Even the janitor had asked Tauriel about the fight - several times, infact.

"No, I am certainly not "kidding", Miss Greenleaf." Mr Radagast stated most emphatically, his bushy eyebrows raised high on his wrinkled forehead, "Now, take your seat at once! Or do I have to issue you with a detention?" 

Tauriel seriously considered protesting - being issued with another detention on top of the millions she still had to serve wasn't much of a deterrent these days - but the class was still watching the drama unfold avidly, clearly hungry for more entertaining confrontation. And Tauriel, contrary to popular belief, was tired of making an exhibition out of herself. So, she obediently walked to the unoccupied chair besides Kili and quietly seated herself down.

"Can't seem to keep away from me, can you?" Kili murmured under his breath, a cocksure smirk still in place.

Tauriel glowered at the white board Mr. Radagast was scribbling away on, refusing to humour Kili with acknowledgement of any kind (other than her filthy dirty expression). Mr. Radagast turned to the class at last and began his lecture, clapping his hands together merrily (he reminded Tauriel of Mr. Gandalf an awful lot),

"Right! Students - Hey! You in the back, Ori! Pay attention! Right, now, our first topic this year is Astronomy."

There was a collective groan following this announcement, which made Mr. Radagast's bearded chin wobble.

"Hey now, kids. Astronomy's _cool_. This is going to be a fun unit, I promise! We're even going to have a field trip in a couple of weeks where we all camp out and go star gazing. Fun, right?"

Tauriel could have sworn she saw a tumble weed roll by. She might have even heard a cricket chirping.

Undeterred by the lack of response from his class, Mr. Radagast soldiered on,

"Now, we're going to watch a short film to introduce us to this topic. But I, uh, well, I can't seem to get the projector to connect to the computer so, uh-" 

Fortunately, one of the students in the front row rushed to Mr. Radagast's doddering aid. A general din broke out as the class stopped pretending to pay attention, which Mr. Radagast attempted to speak over,

"Now, now, children! Whilst I, uh, get help setting this up, I want you to read the first five pages of your textbook. Quietly, if you please!"

Nobody paid him any mind and instead continued on with their conversations. Tauriel, alone, opened her textbook.

"So. You're giving me the silent treatment, are you?"

Kili swivelled around in his chair to face Tauriel - who continued to ignore him, her eyes glued to the pages of her textbook. Their postures were polar opposites; Tauriel's back was rigidly straight whilst Kili lounged, apparently totally at ease. He continued to prattle,

"Look, I'm not too happy with you either. You beat up my brother. His masculine ego's been so damaged by the fact he was beaten by a girl, that he's having to exert himself over me more than usual. I've been put in so many headlocks recently, it's surprising I haven't developed tunnel vision."

Tauriel had heard enough. Breaking her mask of cold indifference, she snarled,

"What is _with_ you?"

"Ah! She speaks." Kili grinned widely, clearly pleased with himself.

Tauriel retorted shortly, "Why are you so aggravating?"

"Why are you so hostile?" Kili quipped, the stupidly smug smile of his still in place.

"I'm not hostile!" She replied, scandalised by the very notion. (She really _wasn't_ hostile... was she?)

Kili chortled, eyebrows raised, "Oh, yeah? Every run in we've had thus far has been pretty hostile in nature."

"Maybe I just don't like you." Tauriel countered, somewhat immaturely.

"Nah." Kili rocked back on his chair, "You don't know me yet. Can't be that."

Tauriel watched him - sleeves rolled up, tie askew, hair messy. Confidence seemed to roll off of him. It made her lip curl in disgust,

"Are you always this cocky?"

Kili shrugged lazily, "Nothing wrong with being self-assured."

Scoffing, Tauriel returned to glower at her textbook, muttering, 

"Whatever. Megalomaniac."

"Oh _come on_." Kili sat forward, all of a sudden beseeching, "What have I done to make you dislike me this much?"

Tauriel turned back to face him then, her eyes narrowed as she began to list,

"Well, for starters, you stole my locker." 

Kili held his hands up in surrender, 

"Hey, woah. _Not_ my fault. Blame the admin staff for that."

Tauriel continued on as if this interruption hadn't occurred,

"Then you tried to show me up in archery."

Kili opened his mouth to object, but Tauriel just steam-rolled over this,

"And your brother gave my brother a black eye."

"Oh. So blondie _is_ your brother then?"

Tauriel was momentarily thrown by the question, as it certainly wasn't the response she'd been expecting.

"Blondie? His name is Legolas. And, well, technically, no. Not my brother, he's my best mate. We live together and his Father is my guardian-" She stopped abruptly, remembering herself, "Why am I explaining this to you? I shouldn't even be talking to you."

For some inexplicable reason, this statement gave Kili reason to resume his smirking,

"Ah, because of what your guardian said? No associating with any of us nasty Durin folk. That scene in the foyer was all very melodramatic, by the way. I enjoyed it immensely."

Tauriel scowled, her words clipped, 

"Partly. But also because I'm actually interested in astronomy and you're distracting me from the reading."

Kili leaned back in his chair again, apparently hubris personified,

"It's alright, I often have that effect on women. Being a devilishly handsome distraction, and all."

Tauriel refused to dignify that assertion with a response. It was difficult, as her eyes were simply _itching_ to roll all the way into the back of her head.

Kili tried again, this time turning the arrogance down a notch. He was seemingly determined to keep their conversation afloat,

"So astronomy, huh? That's kind of interesting. Quirky, really."

"How so?" Tauriel asked flatly, flicking over the page in her textbook.

"It's just not your usual teenage girl pursuit. Neither's archery, come to think of it."

"Oh?" Tauriel rounded on him, belligerent once more, "And what _is_ your 'usual teenage girl pursuit' then?"

"Hey, hey, now." Again, Kili held his hands up in surrender, "I'm just trying to build the puzzle here."

"I'm not that puzzling." She answered in a snippy voice, " _You_ just manage to get on my nerves a lot."

"Yes, yes. I already _know_ that I elicit passionate responses in women." 

Tauriel just fixed him with "a look". Which made Kili chuckle,

"Ah, c'mon. This is banter! Look at us! Engaging in witty repartees already!"

"When I should be reading." Tauriel flicked over to the next page in her textbook whilst Kili watched on, musing outloud,

"There weren't any girls in the archery team at my old school in London."

"Yes. London. Now, why _did_ you move from there to Erebor?" Tauriel wondered, then added in a snarky voice, "Was it specifically to annoy me?"

"Look who's acting arrogant now." Kili teased, still rocking backwards in his chair.

Tauriel rolled her eyes, "Ugh, fine. I won't ask you questions in future."

"It was a joke, Tauriel. Lighten up." 

Tauriel frowned, her chin jutting outwards, as she pretended to read the next page of the astronomy textbook.

Not discouraged or daunted by Tauriel's moodiness, Kili continued to chatter amicably,

"Alright, want to hear a real joke? Science-themed, of course."

He cleared his throat, then stated,

"What does a subatomic duck say?"

Tauriel peered at him - curious despite her stubbornness - and shrugged. Kili grinned and leaned in conspiratorially to reveal the answer,

"Quark."

She couldn't help it, she dissolved immediately into a fit of giggles. It was such a silly joke - goofy and nerdy and _dumb_ \- despite actually being rather clever, and it got to her immediately. Kili looked incredibly pleased with himself,

"I've got plenty more where that came from. For example: Do you know the name Pavlov?"

Tauriel was trying her best not to look as though she was hanging off every word. She even tried to hide her eager expression as Kili delivered the zinger,

"It rings a bell."

Once again, Tauriel dissolved into giggles - she had to clap a hand over her mouth to cover the wild noises being emitted. Kili looked like the cat who'd got the cream and rocked further back in his chair, his chest puffing out proudly. Unfortunately, he rocked back a little too far on the hind legs of the chair, which meant that he lost balance and toppled backwards, resulting in him crashing upon the linoleum floor.

Which made Tauriel loose her cool completely.

***

"I can't _believe_ you could actually name all the stars on Orion's belt. Or that you knew what that Cre-u-the-" Kili attempted, then shook his head, "Well whatever it's called - Earth's second moon thingy - was. Why aren't you in the top class?"

Tauriel grinned appreciatively, hugging her books to her chest as she walked through the bustling corridors besides him. Despite her resistance and best efforts to stick to loathing him and his kin for all eternity like Thranduil wanted, she'd warmed up to Kili considerably. The fact that he'd fallen in a heap on the lab floor and made himself look like an utter prat had a lot to do with her lack of ill feelings, she suspected.

"It's called Cruithne. And the point that I made in class was that it's been incorrectly called Earth's second moon, when it is infact just an asteroid. Glad to know you were listening to me."

"Yeah alright, nerd." Kili chuckled, then pressed, "I repeat, why aren't you in the top class?"

Tauriel shrugged nonchalantly, "Because the rest of Physics is shit. I don't care about velocity or inertia or any of that mathematical mumbo jumbo."

"Huh. Well, okay, to each their own." Kili continued to natter on, bombarding her with questions, "Do you like other sciences then?"

Tauriel nodded, "Oh yeah, I'm in Mr. Radagast's 'A' track biology class."

"What? He teaches both Biology _and_ Physics?" Kili balked, confused by the fact that Tauriel was laughing at his reaction.

"There's not a lot of people in this town, let alone people who actually hold science degrees. Mr. Radagast is a biologist, but he understands physics well enough... so in the school board's eyes he's good enough for us 'B' track physics students. It's not as though most of the class is going to keep the subject for A-Levels."

"Yikes. What sort of education am I receiving all the way out here?" Kili joked and Tauriel chaffed back,

"Oi. Don't be a snob, Londoner." 

"Takes one to know one." Kili quipped, though he continued hastily before Tauriel could have an opportunity to interject or argue, "Anyway, a biologist you say?" He then murmured in a low voice, "He's a bit of an... individual, isn't he? Mr. Radagast?"

"Yep." Tauriel sniggered, murmuring back just as quietly, "Rumour is that he's pretty fond of mushrooms in a not-strictly-speaking professional manner."

Kili snorted, "I don't doubt it."

They'd reached the busy courtyard, the epicentre of the school (and coincidentally, the scene of the fight from three days prior). Tauriel had 'A' track English class and Kili had a free period. Both of them dithered for a moment, knowing that this was where they'd part ways. At length, Tauriel spoke,

"Well, um," She had _no_ idea why her speech was quite suddenly so stilted, or why she sounded impossibly formal, "I have to head back to my locker now, so..."

Kili brazenly stated,

"You know, I want to see this inconvenient locker location for myself. And see what exactly you're griping about." 

Tauriel raised an incredulous eyebrow, cutting through the bullshit, "Are you _accompanying_ me back to my locker?"

"What? No!" Kili immediately protested, though moments later he conceded - all the while scratching through his tangled, knotted hair (strands were falling loose all around his face and Tauriel's fingers were itching to fix the mess), "I mean... it's chivalrous, right? Girls enjoy that sort of thing, don't they?"

Tauriel laughed outright, "You're asking me what girls like? What happened to Mr. Lady Killer?"

"Tauriel."

Tauriel wheeled around at the sudden use of her name and was met by the sight of a thunderous-looking Legolas. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes kept flickering over to where Kili stood, narrowed in suspicion. Hostility rolled off of _him_ in waves.

For a prolonged moment, Tauriel was taken aback and utterly speechless. Where had Legolas materialised from? And why was he addressing her all of a sudden? She felt spite and frustration rise within her - so now that it was convenient for him, he'd concede to talk to her?

"Oh, so we're talking now, are we?" 

"Tauriel-" Legolas repeated, his eyes darting once again towards where Kili stood, but Tauriel didn't let him get another word in edgewise.

"No. Why do you want to talk to me _now_? What was wrong with an hour or so ago? When I was yelling at you in the stairwell, or don't you remember that? I was left looking like a complete mug, by the way."

"Look," Legolas began in a guarded voice, "I'm sorry, really sorry about all that, alright, but-"

Tauriel's hands were now on her hips, as she let him have it - her voice shrill and verging on the hysterical,

"You know what?! That weak-ass apology isn't going to cut it for me! Were you planning on apologising about anything else or am I just going to have to wait around til you decide it's a convenient time to speak to me again?"

"Tauriel. _Please_."

Legolas raised his eyebrows and jerked his head towards Kili rather aggressively. Tauriel let out a laboured sigh, understanding the gesture and mumbled,

"Fine. We won't air our dirty laundry in public."

She turned back to Kili and flashed him a half-smile,

"I'll see you around, okay?"

Kili, evidently, had been watching the exchange with rapt attention. He grinned at Tauriel, then offered a cocky smirk to Legolas, before parting with,

"Yeah, see you."

Legolas didn't relax his antagonistic stance til Kili had cleared the courtyard, which is when he muttered disapprovingly, 

"Why were you talking to that guy? You know he's a Durin, right?"

Tauriel rolled her eyes, "He's my lab partner. It wasn't voluntary, believe me. But enough about that - what have you got to say to me?"

Her hands were still glued to her hips and she stared Legolas down, waiting expectantly for his answer. Of course, she knew that regardless of how flimsy or stuttered his response was that she'd forgive him. But she didn't want to make it _too_ easy. She didn't want Legolas to think he could walk all over her, that he could say those mean things to her and get away with it scot free. She wasn't a pushover and she also knew that she deserved a _real_ apology.

"I'm sorry. I really, really am." Legolas held Tauriel's gaze evenly, his voice genuinely remorseful, "I hate not talking to you and I'm sorry about what I said. I was just angry and sorting through some shit..." He trailed off.

Tauriel's eyebrows knotted together in concern,

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

Legolas looked over his shoulder, clearly deliberating whether this was the right moment to tell her. Tauriel waited patiently, wondering what was going on inside his head - all this behaviour was so new and bizarre to her, they'd always been so in-tune with one another - yet now they were keeping things, apparently important things, from each other? Eventually, Legolas faced her once more and shook his head slightly, thinking better of it,

"I will. Eventually. Anyway, point is, that I'm sorry. I really am. So... do you think you can forgive me? And we can go back to normal?"

Tauriel left the question hanging, suspended in the air, for a little longer than was strictly necessary. But ultimately, she replied with a wide smile,

"You're already forgiven, you dope."

She then catapulted herself at him, throwing her arms around his middle and snuggling into the hug. She mumbled against his shoulder as she felt him snake his arms around her tightly,

"Don't you ever do that to me again. I hate not talking to you, too."

Tauriel began to pull away from the embrace, but Legolas lingered - perhaps just a fraction too long. He quickly realised his mistake and pulled away, clearing his throat. He hastened to add, in a rather rushed voice,

"Good. I'm glad everything's back to normal. Because being a social pariah and having to campaign on weekends, without any company whatsoever would be horrible." Legolas continued, more vehement now, "Really, Taurie, what are we going to _do_? We've really outdone ourselves this time. We're in deep shit with Father."

"Yeah..." Tauriel sighed wearily. Though, all at once, she perked up, "Listen, Legolas, I came up with a plan earlier. It's full proof, trust me. And it also means that we can still hang out with people after school without, technically speaking, breaking Thranduil's rules."

"What, does this involve Skype, or something?" Legolas asked cluelessly.

"No. So, okay, remember how Thranduil stated we're not allowed to leave the estate's grounds unless accompanied by either Lindir or Galion?"

"Yeah..." Legolas answered wearily.

"So, what if we don't, _technically_ leave the estate grounds? We just meet up with people on the edge of Greenwood Forest? They stay on the public side of the invisible boundary and we stay on Greenleaf's grounds!" Tauriel finished with a flourish, excessively proud of her devious ingenuity.

Unfortunately, Legolas didn't seem to reciprocate with even a quarter of Tauriel's exuberance. Instead, he looked worried.

"He wouldn't care about technicalities though, Taurie, you know that. He'd still see it as defying his orders. If he ever found out, we'd be dead. I mean it... he'd probably pull us out of school. Then we wouldn't be allowed to leave the house or see any of our mates unless it was during a supervised, conjugal visit."

Tauriel frowned, "He's _not_ going to find out, though. Neither of us has been hanging around inside the house much anyway since the argument and we're both outdoorsy as it is. He'll just figure that we're going off on walks or playing tennis, or... whatever! We'll think of something, alright? And we'll be careful, I promise. I don't want us to get into even more trouble but c'mon, Legolas. I _want_ to defy his orders. They're draconian and excessive - it's not as though the punishment fits the crime here!"

Slowly, Tauriel could see, Legolas was coming around to her way of thinking,

"Yeah... still. It's pretty risky."

"And what's life without a little risk?" Tauriel countered, her green eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Fine, okay. You've won me over." Legolas conceded, now grinning himself.

"Well good." Tauriel nodded triumphantly, "Because I'm meeting up with Sigrid tonight. We're bringing a picnic and music and I thought I might nick one of Thranduil's wines out of the cellar. Just for good measure."

Legolas laughed, "So you're planning a piss up?"

"No... I mean, I've only invited Sigrid. That'd be a pretty lame party, if that was the case."

"Right, well, I'll invite Haldir and some of the other lads and make it into a _real_ party, then." Legolas replied confidently, thoroughly on-board with the idea now.

Tauriel beamed at him.


End file.
